Sweet Affliction
by thespeedofpain
Summary: Loki let go of the staff and fell into the void of space. He longed for death but instead he got a second chance. Find out what really happened to him when decided to let go.


**AU: This is my first Loki centric/Avengers fanfic and i only hope its worth the read. Feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks and hopefully enjoy~**

* * *

"No, Loki."

He never would've thought two words could affect him so, but here he was dangling from the end of his scepter with fresh tears in his hurt green eyes. It felt as though his entire world had been ripped out from beneath him and all he knew was a lie. He'd only wanted to prove himself to his father, prove that he could be trusted no matter his true parentage, prove that he could be the rightful king of Asgard, but for what? To be told "no"? that word spoke volumes to him and it quite literally felt as if someone had cut open his chest and ripped out his still beating heart.

And to be told that by the one man who's approval he had always sought after tore him to pieces. He'd killed his true father for this man, done what he felt in his heart was the right thing for the Asgardian kingdom and he'd almost successfully gotten rid ot the Jötun race but it wasn't enough. It was**_ never _**enough.

Why, why was his life one constant failure after another? Why couldn't he seem to do anything right even when it felt like he was doing everything right? Why was he of all people always demonized? All these questions ran through his head as he slowly began to loosen his grip on the staff. No more. He refused to live a life full of rejection and failure, not anymore. He forced his face to become passive and willed the tears away, he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing the pain he was in. He refused to be around people that didn't appreciate or even want him around so without any further hesitation he let go. The last thing he saw was the pained expression on Thor's face.

Loki closed his eyes and prayed that death's sweet embrace would take him away from the pain he felt now.

* * *

He landed hard against an unfamiliar rocky surface, the sound of cracking could be heard and it was deafening to his ears. The dark prince jolted upright clenching his teeth to hold in the painful cry that bubbled up in his throat and threatened to spill out. He looked at the odd angle of his leg and cursed The Norns. Cursed them for being cruelest towards him, for always barraging his fate with pain. He had only wanted death to take him away from the pain not force it upon him again as it always seemed to.

It'd been centuries since he'd broken anything last, the pain was unbearable and he feared he'd surely pass out from that alone. He willed his leg to move but instead a shooting pain ran up and down the length of it this time causing him to let out the guttural cry he'd held in. The intense aching had momentarily proved to cloud his judgement and he'd truly forgotten for the short bit of time that he could mend himself with his magic. It'd take everything in him seeing as he was impossibly weak, both from the fall and focusing on staying awake through this ordeal but he had to stop the anguish somehow.

He leaned over slowly, and tardisly rolled up his pants stopping short of the injured area. He didn't want to make anymore noise than he already had so as not to alarm anything of his presence but he was sure if anything lived on this desolate hunk of rock it knew he was here already it was simply waiting. Even so the darked hair prince reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief placing the thick cloth in his mouth as a gag of sorts before moving to roll up his pant leg further.

His breathing started to become a bit labored as he inspected the wound, his bone had shot through his alabaster skin and was sticking out, jagged and impossibly sensitive. He swallowed hard as he lowered his hand to the fractured bone his teeth sinking into the 'kerchief viciously in anticipation of the pain to come. He began to chant a healing spell in his head and he whimpered pathetically into the cloth as he felt the shattered bones beneath the skin in his leg begin to reform slowly before the one shooting out of his skin could slide back and once it did his breathing became more sporadic. The surrounding torn skin started to close around the still healing fracture just as he was becoming lightheaded from the use of such copious amounts of magic but he kept going, he couldn't stop now even if that meant passing out and leaving himself weak and vulnerable, which were two things he hated equally as much as failure and rejection, but he couldn't suffer through this agonizing affliction any longer.

Once the bone had been reconnected Loki moved his leg just a tad, it was still weak and it felt like pins and needles were being jabbed into it but he could move it and thats all that mattered. His lips curled into a slight triumphant smirk and he thought about how lucky he was that he had only sustained injuries to his leg and as the thought passed through his mind a sort of warmth came over him in waves, it was refreshingly calming and welcomed by him before everything went black and his head lulled back in a state of complete and utter relaxation colliding against a nearby rock. A pool of fresh, warm and sticky blood began to form underneath his head soaking his dark locks but he couldn't feel it.

Loki was completely out of it.


End file.
